324 INSIGNIFICANCE OF ART 



mind a superficial structure; whereas the truth is, 

 that the spirit, the sense and the impulse, has its roots 

 very deep in the world and is in all sentient life, and, 

 to follow his metaphor, it is inherent in the granite 

 itself and pervades it like a subtle fire. 



Looking at art from the outside, we may say that 

 it is insignificant in relation to the realities of life. 

 To the artist, particularly when he contemplates the 

 immortal works, as he deems them, of the foremost 

 geniuses, it no doubt seems a very great thing 

 the highest achievement of man. To the mass of 

 humanity it is something unimportant, negligible. 

 The reason is that in the works of art the universal 

 sense of beauty, the fiery principle, a sweetener of 

 life and joy forever, can never find its fullest, freest 

 and its final expression. The artist himself in spite 

 of his delusion will sometimes confess it. Thus, we 

 can imagine a Buonarotti greater than the Michael 

 Angelo we know, who after a sculptured Moses, a 

 painted Last Judgment, a St. Peter's at Rome and 

 a volume of poems, had also excelled in wood carving 

 and in metal and enamel work, and had composed 

 great symphonies and oratorios, and was also a 

 performer on various musical instruments, and had 

 also delighted the world with his acting on the stage, 

 both in comedy and tragedy; who, after doing all 

 these wonderful things, going over them in his mind, 

 had said: "They have all failed to give me perfect 

 satisfaction, though I found a certain pleasure in 

 doing them just the common instinctive pleasure 

 which the worker takes in his work. But they have 



